I’d arrived a bit early, early enough she hadn’t finished getting ready. (There were issues with her plumbing, and the plumbers were giving her the runaround. They were gonna show up early, then not for days, then maybe that afternoon. Very disconcerting.) I think it was all the mess with the plumbers that had her just too weak to resist, unwilling to worry about me watching this ever-so-sacred female act. She kept saying “you’re not supposed to see this.”

She kept saying it, but he didn’t hide away in the bathroom, didn’t send me into another room to play Sim City on my phone while she got ready. (I’m getting really good at Sim City on my phone, btw.) In a way, I relished the amount of comfort & trust she was giving me, allowing me to see her in such a physically vulnerable way.

So I sat quietly, only speaking when spoken to, let her do her thing, made but one request: “If you could, how about you put on as little as you feel comfortable with.” It’s something I commonly ask my models, when I remember. (I got a memory like a steel sieve.)

With Alie, though, it was worth mentioning because her make-up is very intentional and has a definite effect on the look of her face.

Her style is fairly vintage, and her make-up tends to accentuate that effect, give her a bit of a ’50s look that’s quite strong. Quite attractive, too.

BUT.

Seeing her without her make-up, I realized that, if I could get her to leave most of it off, I’d get a more honest portrait of her, a very different feel to all of the shots.

As she put on her make-up, we talked. And she put on more make-up. I didn’t mind. I knew when I asked that the odds were against me. Because this is how it’s supposed to be, yeah? And yet, I would personally much prefer if women didn’t wear make-up. But that there would start a whole Thing, wouldn’t it? No make-up, well then maybe no shaving, then nobody shaves, then we live in a world where everybody looks like they live on Planet of the Apes.

And yet, I’d love to see this city without make-up for just one day. I’d love to be able to photograph folks as they really are, maybe that’s it. Warts and all. Well, maybe not warts. Those are gross.

In the end, Alie ended up applying her normal amount of make-up, and we had ourselves a splendid shoot, because make-up or not, she is a stunner. But don’t be surprised if I show up early next time she & I shoot. By accident, of course.

You know how people are always like, “Wednesday! I hate Wednesday more than Monday!” and, “Contrary to popular belief, Wednesday is a horrible day,” and, “I’m full of Existential angst after slaving away for The Man for two whole days, and suddenly I just realized I have three more days of slaving away to go! Boo to you, Wednesday!”? Well, fret not, Wednesday hating masses. The Manolith team has assembled a lil prize pack that just might put a smile on your wage-slaving, Camus-quoting, clove cigarette smoking, life-hating, whiskey-drinking, depressing-ass Wednesday:

Your very own calendar featuring hot Mormon girls and their muffins!

Really, they’ve got actual muffins. And each month features a muffin recipe only slightly less delicious than the cutie corn-fed girls featured in the calendar. Even if you don’t win, you can always cruise over to YouTube and check out those hot Mormon muffins giving you advice on how to rise to the occasion and be a wiz in the kitchen. I mean, you can’t eat Kraft Mac n’ Cheese all the time.

Here’s how to enter!

- All you have to do is leave a comment below with a caption for the calendar.

TEN lucky winners will be chosen randomly. Giveaway ends Wednesday 11/25/09. Winners will be reached by email, and announced on the blog on 11/25/09.

NOTE: Please use a valid e-mail address.

Entries limited to US and Canada only.

Miss Japan and Miss Trindad and Tobago are the new topic of conversation after a three-way sex tape involving the two hit the web today. Hiroko Mima (Japan) and Anya Ayoung-Chee (Trindidad and Tobago) represented their countries in the 2008 Miss Universe competition and the video was apparently made eight months after the actual event.

The videos, which are broken up into a couple of parts, are spreading like wildfire (not surprising), and will probably expel the two young ladies from the contest. For all you curious folk out there, Hollywood Grind has you covered with the exclusive footage.

(Via: TMZ)

However, if you have gotten this far into the text, then surely, you are either not attracted to women, or some form of literate non-human entity that I have yet to encounter. Possibly you are some form of vegetable that gained sentience, or Lieutenant Commander Data from Star Trek.

I have so many questions for those of you who fall into this category. Mainly, what’s it like to look at Marisa Miller and have no sexual feelings at all? What, for fuck’s sake? I am seriously, earnestly asking, because it simply does not compute in my non-robotic, non-vegetable mind. Her body is literally perfect. And it’s not just that; the shape of her mouth is so damn sexy, especially in that teasing half-smile found in so many of her photos.

To me, the notion of not being turned on by her is kind of a newer, better version of the old Zen meditative riddle about a tree: If you met Marisa Miller and she failed to give you wood and no one was around, would you make a sound? I don’t think that would be possible for me, but if I did happen to encounter her, I know that I would try my best to get a solid mental picture, then find a private place and make the sound of one hand clapping.

I had been invited to the wedding by a fellow Polaroid enthusiast, Tod Brilliant, after I had found him a photographer to shoot the wedding using only Polaroids.

(I was still very green, didn’t have the confidence to put myself up for the spot, and in the end that was the smart play, as it gave me free reign over the wedding, able to shoot who and when I wanted, without any of the pressure of being the wedding photographer.)

I’d met Anne only that day, and she was damned delightful. Frankly, everyone at the wedding, all strangers to me, were awesome. It was a rare collection of excellent people; everyone more than happy to have their picture taken by a well-dressed man with a twenty-year-old camera.

Me.

I’d taken a photo of Anne earlier in the day, but had been less than satisfied with it. Best part was, she was less than satisfied, too. We both knew we could do better, but we were at a wedding, not necessarily the best spot for a wee photo shoot. I was constantly moving, mingling, kibitzing, and she was doing the same, many of the folks there friends of hers she hadn’t seen in awhile.

But I eventually caught up with her, right as the sun was going down. She posed just so, I could feel it was perfect as I was looking through the camera. Anne has a particular awareness of the camera, as a popular visual artist herself, she understood the importance of composition, of giving something worthy of being photographed. I stepped in closer, took the shot, watched it develop, but didn’t really give it a good look. I knew it was a sweet shot, and there was a lot of party left. It wasn’t until perhaps a day later, back home, that I started giving serious attention to all the Polaroids I’d taken.

And there it was. Gorgeous lady, gorgeous light, and, most important of all, that gorgeous pose that crystallized for me what I wanted from the photos I was taking.

I’d been trying, unconsciously, to capture that kind of expression for months, but didn’t know quite what I was looking for. And there it was, Anne, lips parted, as if about to speak, or taking in a slice of air, eyes alive, face neutral. I’d been having people stare at the camera, not smiling, as was customary when someone takes a picture, but it was that lack of expression, that slight part of the lips, that made all the difference.

So tiny a detail, yet I could see it was significant, when compared to shots where someone’s mouth was closed and looking into the camera.

It took me awhile to figure out why, and there’s several reasons. For example, it was the expression most models have, in magazines, in ads. It intimated more of a pregnant pause, perhaps. It evoked, ever so slightly, the idea that you have caught a moment in between poses, as the model was either saying something, or taking a breath, and as such gives the shot a greater degree of life about it, appears less posed, paradoxically.

After that shot, I asked that pose of all my models. But more than just figuring out a small detail to infuse my photos with, it began to show me that it was worth it to constantly examine my own work, looking for ways to improve, for ways to better get across the things I wanted from my photos.

I also learned that if I’m around Anne, I better have my camera ready.

You can find Anne’s art HERE

You’re an upstanding member of our species. But like every member of our species, sometimes you do incredibly dumb things that threaten your standing as, well, an upstanding member of our species.

Fear not–if we can see further, it’s that we’re standing on the shoulders of midgets. Or something.

Convince the persons who matter that it’s all bull.

You’re out on the town with a buddy when you decide to hit a strip joint. You meet a hot stripper there that rocks your world. You take her home–well, not really, because you’re married–but you take her somewhere and have incredible sex. The sex is so good, you tell another buddy about it. You trust your bros. Problem? Your bros are douchebags. Word gets around. Now everyone is talking about it. Damn! Is nothing sacred?

Josh Duhamel, Fergie’s hubby, feels your pain, man. He’s all over the tabloids after those busybodies at The National Enquirer paid off a dancer to spill about their rocking one-night stand. Learn from his technique: deny, question the motives of your accuser, deny, slander the accuser, deny, bestow affection on your beloved, deny, repeat. As long as she believes you, it doesn’t matter what people say. Make her your ally in this ruthless attempt to destroy your union and she will stand up for you herself and call the story nonsense.

WARNING! Quickly assess all evidence available before taking this stance. If there are photos, video, or anything else that could corroborate the story, you will make a bigger mess than the one you started with. Also–do not do this if there are too many previous incidents of reported misbehavior.

Have a buddy take the fall and pay everyone to be quiet.

You’ve been working long hours. It’s a weird combo of stress and adrenaline. You’re on a roll. Things couldn’t be better. But then they somehow do get better (it must be your hair). You meet a sex pot ready for a good time and are banging her retarded in no time between meetings. Your wife has no idea. Damn it feels good! Life could not be sweeter. Until, that is, you find out your side dish’s pregnant. Uh oh! What now?

Make like John Edwards and throw money at the problem. Get a buddy to pretend it’s his deal and compensate both him and your mistress handsomely. Money talks–and silences, too. But be a good douchebag about it and make sure you don’t put it like that–say it’s for the cause. You’re not paying them off, you’re taking care of them for their devotion to the preservation of the status quo.

WARNING! Do not do this if you’re in the government. Once the Feds are involved, all bets are off. Oh, and don’t use company money, either. You don’t want to give anyone any reason to investigate your shenanigans. How to deal if your wife comes asking why you’re paying such hefty sums every month? Tell her they’re social media experts. Twitter is an art, you know. They have huge conferences about it and everything.

Make a public confession so embarrassing, people you know will never want to mention it to you.

You meet a woman at a party while traveling abroad and have a connection. You try to be good–you are married, after all. It seems easy. You live in different countries and all you have is e-mail. You’re just going to be friends. It’s all good. It is… right?

The digital medium is tricky–it makes you feel like the only people in the world. The intimacy and honesty get the best of you. You cave. Oh, you cave, you cave, you cave. The rush makes you stupid. You slip. Soon everyone knows you’re not off decompressing while hiking the Appalachian trail, but in South America, indulging yourself. What to do?

You go home. You let your wife kick you out of the house. You get up in public and make a cringe-inducing apologetic speech. You cry like a baby. You wax poetic about love to an extent that those watching vomit a little in their mouths. You make yourself so pathetic, it becomes impossible to hate you. You’re not a philandering bastard–you’re a fool in love. This is special. This is noble. But you’re going to sacrifice that to make things right. Heavy stuff, man. Next to your breakdown, your wife and her dignified stance becomes cold and cruel. Surely she pushed you to this, you poor, love-hungry sucker.

WARNING! You must have an absolutely spotless record to try this. And preferably have written some really mushy love letters to your mistress.

‘Fess up, swear it’s the last time, and let the victim of your bad behavior dictate what you need to do.

You work a lot. You work a lot with a lot of young hot things around you who respect what you do. You’re funny. And you’re kind of their boss. Hey! Next thing you know, you’re hooking up with them. It’s hot, it’s wild. You feel young again. And then! One of your playthings’ boyfriends gets a load of the sitch and threatens to go public unless you cough up some dough. Now what?

Call the police. No, wait. Call your attorney and then call the police (in that order. Always. Trust me). Tell your wife immediately. Promise these affairs are over and you will never do it again. Ask her what you can do to improve the situation. When she calls for a public apology to be made to her, nod and agree. And then do it, remembering to be as self-deprecating as humanly possible, but in a funny way. You may make mistakes, but you’ll take no pity. You’re a real man, after all. Even when you’re cowering to your wife’s every subsequent demand.

Nowadays, when I’m in the act of shooting, I think I’m great. I think I’m the best thing since sliced bread. I talk a lot, exude confidence — well, arrogance, really. I jump around, mock-surprised at how good a shot is, and reassure the models that we are making magic. And that feeling will sometimes last until I get home, and then I see one of Julia’s photos.

I look at her photos today, and it is the same as those many, many (three?) years ago. Because Julia is a Real Photographer.

I know because I’ve seen her operate. Seen her direct a model, compose, create within her mind, make it all happen. When I first met her, I was expecting someone distanced, maybe even a bit snooty. When someone who creates the photos she does, you expect them to be some genius who breathes rarefied air from a fancy canister. Someone who speaks above your pay grade. Instead, she was gregarious and excited. Jazzed. Yeah, jazzed, that’s the perfect word.

And almost three years later, jazzed is still the word I’d use to describe her. She draws a true excitement from photography and utilizes that to create amazing work. It’s an energy that definitely spreads, and energy goes a long way during a shoot. Best part? Julia’s getting big. Not all at once, and not nearly fast enough for her taste, but she moved down here early in the year to be a Professional Photographer, and now it’s happening.

I could spew out some more FOLLOW YOUR DREAM stuff at this point, but that’s not really what did it. Rather, what did it was damned hard work. Another reason she’s my hero. Maybe a far better reason that just, “ooh, she’s a really good photographer!”

She understands that to be successful in her field, you can’t just be talented: you have to work, work at your art, work at marketing yourself, at getting your name out there, and you need to be able to hustle, to get it the way it needs to be done, for the client.

Julia’s good at what would be the montage part of her story, where in a lot of fast edits you’re shown how she knocks on all the doors, takes all the meetings, leaves her portfolio, picks it up, then drops it off somewhere else. Except in real life, that there is a boatload of work.

She’s my hero because she’s willing to put in the work. For a lazy bastard like myself, that’s about as hardcore as it gets.

See Julia’s work at www.juliagaldo.com AND BE AMAZED.

Remember last week when photos from that sexy Mormon baking calendar thing leaked? Well, today even more photos have made their way into the world of Internet-land. But for those not yet up-to-date, here’s the story in short.

A few years back, an entrepreneurial dude named Chad Hardy had a great idea, he would make a calendar featuring sexy Mormons to, you know, let the world know that such things existed. His first project was “Men on a Mission,” a calender chock-full of sexy young Mormon men. This calendar was a huge success for Hardy, and women the world over loved the idea, however, unfortunately, the Mormon Church was not as excited. In fact, in response they excommunicated Mr. Hardy. Harsh.

Not one to give up though — as I said, quite the entrepreneur — Hardy has decided to double down on his effort, this time around with a calendar featuring sexy Mormon women, which he has titled “Hot Mormon Muffins.” And to make the double entendre all the more fun, he included 12 delicious muffin recipes to go along with all 12 delicious uhh, muffins women. Anyway, some of the photos from this new calendar leaked last week (as mentioned above) and you can check them out here, as for the new ones, check below!

None of this is new news of course — young costumers have been capitalizing on this salacious opportunity for years, and costume companies have been capitalizing on young costumers for just as long. But with any expanding market, it was only a matter of time before somebody went too far. Sexy Nurse, Sexy Cowgirl, Sexy Little Bo Peep, sure. But Sexy Chain-Gang Member? Here are twelve of this year’s costume companies’ that attempted to just slap the word “sexy” onto any noun, and sell it to you for $39.95.

Sexy SpongeBob

Of all the cartoon characters to make sexy, I have to say SpongeBob is not at the top of my list. He’s yellow. He’s a rectangular prism. He’s a dude. Not to mention that 99% of his fans are under the age of eight (the other 1% are creepy older dudes who, I admit, would probably love this costume). If you’re a girl trying to get attention this Halloween, cartoons can work, but think Jessica Rabbit. Think Daphne from “Scooby Doo”. Stay away from Nickelodeon.

Sexy Barbarian

The first rule of sexy Halloween costumes is, “Show some skin.” The second rule is, “Don’t carry a weapon so huge that guys will pay more attention to it than to you.” The third rule is, “Don’t wear pink poofy fur balls unless you’re going as a Poodle, a Dr. Seuss character, or Cotton Candy” (now there’s an idea for a weird sexy Halloween costume). This costume shatters all the rules, and, furthermore, is an insult to sexy costumes everywhere, to this cute girl’s potential, and I’m pretty sure to barbarians too.

Sexy Bubble Wrap

This costume is awesome, if a tiny triangle of bubble wrap over each of your privates can be considered a costume. It’s more of a, “Hey, look at my boobs and crotch!” announcement that invites a type of sexual assault that, I’m pretty sure, would be quite defensible in most courts.

Sexy C3PO

This picture is not sexy. This costume is not sexy. There is one sexy costume opportunity in Star Wars. The annoying golden robot guy is not it.

Sexy Chicken Choker

WFT? No seriously, WTF. This is advertised as, “Sexy Chicken Restaurant Worker”, which is strange enough in itself, but then they had to go and add the rubber chicken. OK, nice accessory and double-entendre, but I don’t think that’s how chicken restaurants work. I’m not sure what’s more of a stretch, their attempt to make a costume out of this, or that chick’s shirt.

Sexy Clown Fish

Sexy Mermaid is one thing, but they’re really going for it with this one. Yes, this girl would look pretty good in anything, but I think part of the “Sexy Object” formula, is an assumption that Object is human, or at least a mammal (see: “Sexy Aardvark”). Frankly speaking, there just aren’t that many “sexy” creatures in the sea, and the Clown Fish is probably one of the most obscure of all. Sure, the Clown Fish is colorful, but colorful is not sexy. In fact in this case, it’s just plain weird.

Sexy Life-Size Doll

OK, I get it. Sort of like Barbie. Except for that Barbie in real life would be hot, whereas Barbie in a box is, you know, plastic. Maybe this hits a little too close to “dead girl in a display case” to be sexy for me. Not to mention it’s got to be about the most cumbersome costume since the Kool-Aid Guy.

Sexy Earth

Nothing is sexier than Mother Earth! Unless of course you’re not a tree-hugging vegan hippie. In that case this costume is just gaudy and round. But hey, maybe this person is only going for tree-hugging hippies, in which case she’s on the right track to finding one to locate in one of her lovely, topographic canyons and stick something where … Alright, enough.

Sexy Marie Antoinette

Look, I’m sure Marie Antoinette was sexy. But is a costume of an esoteric historical heroine really a good idea? (Especially one with a Sheltie on her head?) After all, Leg Avenue is still reeling from the bombs that were the Sexy Joan of Arc and Sexy Mary Magdalene costumes.

Sexy Nun

Because nothing’s sexier than a nun. Except, you know, maybe someone that would theoretically have sex with you.

Sexy Plus-Size Referee

Sexy Referee was bad enough (does that costume make sense to anyone? Anyone?) But I suppose ladies of all sizes deserve an excuse to display their womanly parts in a ridiculous outfit that speaks more of “zebra” than “sports official”.

Sexy, uh, Tuxedo

And, at last, we have what’s billed as “Sexy Tuxedo”. Because I think if you look close, there’s a tiny bowtie or something right above that girl’s hoo-hah. And this really sums up our list, and the reason we all like Halloween in the first place: it doesn’t matter if your costume is really a costume, or in this case even qualifies as “clothes” … as long as you’re willing to get drunk and show your nether regions to lots and lots (and I mean lots) of strangers.

No big surprise.

But I noticed at a shoot last week that it’s not just about creating a pleasant atmosphere for your model, not just about establishing a rapport and using that connection to take some good photos.

When Amanda punched me, I felt something change. She was hesitant, didn’t want to do it, and ended up socking me only lightly.

The first time.

I had her do it again, hoping that I’d get what I was looking for, something I’d seen in the previous three shoots I’d done that week. The second punch was solid, and you could tell something had shifted, just a wee bit. But she was still awkward about the idea. So I let it slide.

For a few minutes.

When I came up with the idea, it was all on its own. Have the model punch me, photograph the action, see and try to capture the changing mood on the model’s face.

But the more I did it, the more I witnessed that it wasn’t really the act of punching that drew my interest. It was the visible energy afterwards, the changed dynamic between myself and the model. The punching shots always ended up too blurry and fairly useless. But afterwards! The models were jumpy, excited, the energy was strangely more comfortable.

So a few minutes after Amanda first punched me, when we’d walked around a bit and shot some different set-ups, I had her do it again.

And a week later I’m still feeling the bruise from that one.

Now, I am not suggesting that any photographers reading this have their models surprise them by a punch to the stomach.

Though, when that happened, it was weird and shocking and awesome and I couldn’t stop laughing.

I’m not really suggesting anything. I came up with a weird thing that helps create a different energy during my shoots, that maybe gives the model a better sense of collaboration, of agency.

I’d shot Amanda several times before, always excellent shots, but this last shoot was different. More laughing, more excitement, more of a feeling that we’re all working together, that we’re more partners in this here photography thing.

And it’s amazing to watch. Amazing to be a part of. To feel I’ve made some progress, after spending so long just trying to get comfortable taking pictures of people, asking them to put themselves at my disposal.

And Amanda got to punch some folks, so everybody wins!

1. Due to her imminent hatred of affordable health care, she will be as pure as the driven snow due to the fear of any sort of malady. This is important, because unless you’re Anne “Fisty Shake” Coulter, right wing women have never so much showered in the nude. They fear it more than life itself, that whole “being free” sort of thing. They hate freedom, and that is why they want to take away the very basic human right of being naked AT ANY TIME.
2. Fox News Channel watchers are proven to being easily led, like sheep, or American Idol viewers. This means that you will have a veritable Willy Wonka playground of poonani. Do you want to try the sexual positions that you’d only dreamed about, such as:
   * Mongolian Beaver Hat
   * The Horatio Alger
   * Chase The Cat
   Well, now you can. Because no sooner than you can say “Tea Bagging” can you get her to do unusual sexual positions.
3. The best Christmas presents are the ones tightly wrapped. You can take that many different ways, such as the fact that Republican woman are LITERALLY wrapped in paper and put in a cardboard box with no breathing holes OR you could take it metaphorically, in the way that they are so bundled up in LL Bean mock-turtlenecks and Seinfeld-era jeans, that underneath it all they’re all 10’s. No joke. Nobody has even considered this. Nobody has considered this because nobody thinks outside the box. Literally. The box. (they call that a ‘callback’ in comedy, folks).
4. They are relentless. As in: they will not stop fucking you until they have taken your lifeforce they climax. And when they climax, an eagle will appear at the window and sing ‘God Bless America’ in the voice of James Earl Jones.
5. Think about it: Sarah Palin naked. You’d do it. I’d do it. We’d all do it.
6. Every time a Liberal winds up having sex with a Republican, Bill O’Reilly loses an eyebrow hair. If we keep it up, he will have no eyebrows, and thus he will not be able to show indignation, resentment, hypocrisy, or any other one of the emotionally blackmailing faces that he does on his show to make the viewer think that Republicans actually care about them. Basically, if we keep fucking Republicans, there’ll be no Bill O’Reilly within a month. And that would make a better world.
7. They will lie and cheat their way into whatever they want. And to be honest, that’s kind of hot. It’s nice to see someone make an effort once in a while, even if it is things like ‘destroying your civil liberties’ and ‘taking your freedoms away’.

However, the station has caused some to remark upon the suspicious nature of the timing of the reports; the station’s “sweeps month” will have been in force a couple of days prior to the airing. General manager Bill Lord has commented ” … we’re a commercial television station — we’re trying to get people to watch us. Yes, this is an attention-getting story, but it’s also an important story.”

More people should watch the news who don’t, and the entertainment industry already uses sex to sell products — why should national health awareness refrain from using the same tactics? Just don’t expect me to watch when it’s time to learn about the proper way to conduct a prostate gland exam.

I once went to the temple square in Salt Lake City, Utah, driving home from California. And the people in Salt Lake City are the nicest I’ve ever encountered anywhere, ever. They put all my Mormon jokes to bed, really, in the most platonic, nonsexual way possible. Which is why a new Mormon pin-up calendar is confusing me.

The calendar is called Hot Mormon Muffins, the follow-up to the controversial Men On A Mission calendar. The principle? Have sexy, supposed Mormon women pose with trays of muffins, and then list recipes for the muffins. So you’re caught somewhere between a boner and a baker. Which is way weirder than a rock and a hard place. There’s only one problem. The creator, Chad Hardy, was excommunicated from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints for his OTHER endeavor, a calendar of Mormon men, called “Men on a Mission”. Ostensibly, for converting their religion into a fetish. Albeit a weird, sexy, one.

So in the last few months, we’ve had a completely unconvincingly sexual calendar featuring conservative women, and one with hot Mormon muffins. I’m going to go with Mormon muffins.

Does anybody actually think these muffin recipes taste delicious? Cause I really want to buy this calendar, but really don’t want to explain to people why I did.

(Photos Via: Mormonsexposed)

In case you’re not yet up-to-date on last week’s big R&B news event, TLC member T-Boz revealed in an interview on The Mo’Nique Show that she and the girls were not only sexy & cool (givens), but that they were downright crazy too. Here’s the story.

It’s 1995, TLC’s second album CrazySexyCool has been nominated for a Grammy (which they won) and the girls have just found out that the album has made their label, Arista Records, quite a bit of money. Like piles and piles of money. Piles to the tune of $75 million kind of money. This was surprising. Not because the album wasn’t great or didn’t deserve it (it was and it did), but because each of the three members of TLC — T-Boz, Chilli & Left-Eye — had only received $50,000 a piece for their contributions.

Now I’m no math major, but if you take what the label made, divide it by what the girls made ($150,000 total), carry the two, and … uh yeah, they got fucked. Like 500 to 1 style. Yeah.

But what do you do. Music 101 folks, record labels are horrible money-suckers, never to be trusted. So it goes, right? Well, not if you’re TLC. Left-Eye decided this was unacceptable and they should do something about it. So they loaded up on guns & ammunition, charged into Arista headquarters, hunted down label-head Clive Davis, and held him hostage, at gun point, and demanded their money. No joke. They even had a limo driver to getaway in.

And it probably would have worked too, except that in pointing their guns at the head of Arista, they had also inadvertently broken up a meeting between Davis and Puff Daddy (as he then called himself). And Puffy, being Puffy, not liking the idea of anyone getting between him and his business, called the cops. As T-Boz eloquently put it, Puffy “snitched.”

Fortunately for TLC, Davis decided not to press charges — likely cause he didn’t want the bad publicity — and the girls went home empty-handed. So yeah, the record company still won out.

But still, pretty bad-ass, right? Great album too.

1. Looks
2. Hotness.
3. Breast Size.
4. Breast Shape.
5. Breast Smell.
6-150. General Boner-worthiness.
151. Intellect and Ability.

However, not all networks are equal, and some networks simply cannot afford to scoop up and employ the more boner-worthy female news correspondents. Fortunately though, the Manolith Team recently did a fine job presenting the hottest Newswomen so you can go to the channels they are on and turn the volume on mute and stare at them all you want. It is equally important, though, to warn you what networks to actively avoid as well, so you don’t accidentally run across the 5 LEAST HOT NEWSWOMEN IN AMERICA.

1. COUNTESS CHERYL

Countess Cheryl is a correspondent for Channel 15 Local News in Bender’s Mill, Louisiana. Countess Cheryl received dual degrees in broadcasting from both Princeton and Harvard, schools that she attended simultaneously, despite that they are located across the country from one another. She was so dedicated to getting the best learning however, that she would fly from Boston to wherever Princeton is located three times a week to take classes at both institutions. Upon graduating with degrees from both colleges, she managed to prove herself a thoughtful, unbiased, and brilliant reporter. Unfortunately, she looks like a 300-year-old dude, so she couldn’t get a job anywhere. Eventually she was hired by Channel 15 out of pity, and is allowed to sometimes do reports for them, provided she completes her primary job of living alone in the basement of their news building, and only coming out to feed at night.

2. HELEN SNOPE

Helen is not the ugliest News woman on the list. She is very plain though, and according to the Bill of Rights (yes there is a section in the Bill of Rights on hiring female news anchors) she is legally required to wear a picture of Mila Kunis stapled to the lapels of her dress, so at least something hot is on screen while she’s blathering on about Barack Obama, or global warming, or whatever.

3. PEACH TREVORMORE

Peach was born tens of thousands of years ago to an agrarian fishing community. However, when she and her brother found the One Ring at the bottom of a river they were fishing in, she killed her brother for the ring, then eventually found her way to a cave, because the power of the ring made her mistrust those around her, and she could only take comfort from then on in the lonely echoing darkness of the cave. Sometime later a hobbit came by and screwed everything up, and she was forced to go on a grand adventure wherein her “precious”, the one ring, was destroyed and all was made right with the world. Having nothing to do after that, she decided to go into broadcast journalism. She can now be spotted doing local crime reports on channel 48 in Dayton, Ohio, where she does a fine job reporting on crime in the area. The only complaints local viewers have is that she isn’t very good looking, and that sometimes she’ll tear apart a live fish in the middle of a report.

4.  CARRIE ANNE RAMOS

Carrie Annie is the only Rastafarian on our list of unattractive female anchors. She made the list because she is obviously incredibly ugly. There are rumors going around that she is actually a small dog in a wig, but Carrie Anne Ramos has repeatedly defended herself against those rumors. Usually by barking erratically, urinating, and then hiding behind a bunch of pillows.

5. LISA “FEMALE” JENKINS

Lisa “Female” Jenkins is a pregnant wolf spider that spun a giant web above Keith Olberman’s desk at MSNBC, with the intent of one day cocooning and consuming Mr. Olberman. But watching Keith Olberman deliver the news each week, while slowly gaining strength and saving up web juice to cocoon him with, she got a taste for journalism. So, instead of eating Keith Olberman, she decided to attend the NYU school of journalism. Once she completed her degree, having cocooned and drained the blood of less than 14% of the faculty and staff (a personal best), she returned to MSNBC where, depending on who you ask, Mr. Olberman either immediately recognized her talent and hired her on the spot, or was terrified of her giant gnashing spider fangs and offered her a job in exchange for his life. Either way, no one can deny, she is awesome at being a reporter, but not great looking, even for a giant wolf spider.

(Photos Via: http://www.artinthepicture.com, http://koutuk.blogspot.com/, http://www.geekologie.com/, http://www.kawakib.com/ )

Sometimes it’s tough to watch the news; it’s boring, it’s ugly and it reminds us that we aren’t safe where we live. It also demonstrates to us that bankruptcy is just a paycheck away for many, that the weather’s never what we want it to be, and that traffic is always terrible. Enter the hot newsgirl. Suddenly, it doesn’t really matter how bad the news is, or even how boring it is, that’s not what’s drawing your attention anymore. The cute, quirky, oddly inviting, yet overly feminine, reporter has you completely soothed and mildly entranced before you even realize that you’re paying any attention to the news in the first place. In no particular order, here are 15 of the hottest news-women in America — suddenly current events look a bit more interesting.

Trish Regan

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Not just a pretty face — Trish graduated cum laude from Columbia to move on and graduate with honors from Phillips Exeter Academy. She used to work for Goldman Sachs in emerging markets and she’s fluent in both Spanish and Italian. Now she spends her time anchoring for CNBC on The Call, while making regular appearances reporting for NBC. As if that’s not enough, she’s a former Miss New Hampshire too.

Mary Calvi

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Graduating magna cum laude from Syracuse University, Mary hit the New York news sphere like a hurricane. She’s Emmy-nominated seven times over, and she’s walked away with the trophy three times. She spends her time anchoring the weekends for WCBS-TV in New York.

Lily Jang

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Graduating from University of Texas at Austin, Lily quickly moved through the ranks, and through the country, as she leapt from stations in Texas and Alabama to Seattle, WA. She now reports for Q13 Fox News Seattle, where she’s met considerable success and local favor in a short period of time. She’s fluent in Cantonese and Vietnamese, and if you hadn’t noticed, she’s pretty adorable, too.

Ainsley Earhardt

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Ainsley has worked her way through local stations across the country since graduating from the University of South Carolina. She reported extensively for CBS before being picked up by Fox in 2007. She moved quickly, having already established herself as a regular co-host of Hannity’s America, Fox and Friends, and Red Eye, all while maintaining her late-night anchor duties. With the amount of face-time she’s getting, there’s no doubt we’ll be seeing a lot more of Ainsley in the years to come.

Jill Dobson

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Former Miss Michigan, Jill Dobson is a Fox News Channel entertainment correspondent who migrated from CBS after college. She’s also part of an ever-growing cadre of beautiful women that seem intent on making Fox live up to its name. She appears regularly on numerous Fox shows, like Hannity and Colmes and Fox and Friends, and she even stops in to lighten up Bill O’Reilly’s torture-hour every now and then. We thank her for that.

Diane Macedo

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This stunningly hot news-writer for Fox News Channel spends her time lurking the shadows of one of the world’s largest news networks. She barely exists on the Internet, save for plentiful by-lines and rare snapshots from her appearances on-air. Try catching her during Fox’s News Whip, whenever that might randomly occur — you won’t be sorry.

Sharon Tay

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Sharon moved to the USA from Singapore when she was seven, only to pick up and move to the Philippines and back again before college. She graduated from Boston University and immediately got her window into broadcasting, picking up a gig working for a small cable news show. She later moved on to work in California’s Monterey Bay, where she worked investigative reports for a Salinas news station. That’s where she made it big — getting picked up by KTLA in Los Angeles. It was there that she went from reporter to anchor, only to leave the network for MSNBC. She didn’t stop there, either, as she’s now seen nightly anchoring for a local CBS station in LA. On top of all that, she’s made appearances in both Independence Day and Eagle Eye… as a reporter.

Kristine Johnson

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Nominated for two Emmy awards, Kristine joins Mary Calvi in a pretty elite club at WCBS-TV in New York. Before that, this University of Nebraska grad spent time anchoring for NBC, and even MSNBC occasionally. One thing’s for certain — whatever they’ve got at that station, it seems to attract the right kind of woman.

Veronica De La Cruz

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While focusing on family at the moment, Veronica De La Cruz is one of CNN’s most prolific anchorwomen to date, having anchored for or made regular appearances on many programming slots on both CNN and CNN Headline News, as well as CNN Pipeline. She’s also been featured on too many talk shows to count since she began a campaign against unfair medical insurance, and all while maintaining a smile that could melt a sphinx. Little-known fact: She’s a former figure-skater.

Contessa Brewer

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With a penchant for mischief and looks to kill, Contessa makes MSNBC not only sexy, but fun. She made headlines a few years ago when she started a feud with Don Imus (we all know who lost that battle), and more recently made the hilarious mistake of calling Jesse Jackson Al Sharpton in a live interview. Go ahead, have a look.

Daniella Guzmán

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Anchoring for NBC affiliate KPRC in Houston, Texas, Daniella Guzmán is no stranger to journalism. She’s made a career out of it, but not the way most of her colleagues do — Daniella has worked in nearly every television-related field and position, for companies ranging from Fox 26 to Univision, and even interned with ad agencies for a while. She’s seen all sides, and that has helped her become the down-to-earth anchorwoman she now is today, down in Houston. Being hot is probably the only thing that just came on its own, naturally.

Robin Meade

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Needing no introduction, Robin Meade has a loyal fan-base that probably numbers in the millions (and all male). She spent years anchoring and reporting for stations up and down the east coast, and even managed to work in a stint as Miss Ohio. Robin joined CNN Headline News after gaining recognition (and an Emmy) for reporting during several crisis events, and it didn’t take her long to make a name for herself there. Now she hosts Morning Express with Robin Meade.

Morgan Fogarty

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Queen of local “infotainment,” Morgan co-hosts Charlotte’s late-night news talk-show Fox News Edge. She graduated from Penn State and immediately took to the field, anchoring for NBC in Maryland before making the move to North Carolina. Her self-confessed dream job is to make the “tainment” part of her job more permanent, and work for E! Entertainment. One thing we do know, she’d fit right in with the girls at E!.

Dana Hendrickson

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Don’t worry, she may not look it but she’s of age. Dana Hendrickson is one of the media’s most hidden gems. It’s only a matter of time until St. Louis’s NBC affiliate, KSDK, loses this little treasure to the offices in New York or LA. Dana’s currently biding her time hosting a little show called Show Me, St. Louis. St. Louis is probably more than willing to show her anything she asks.

Lynn Berry

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WNBC 4 in New York is lucky to have Lynn heating up the place, since before signing there she had a gig as a correspondent for The Today Show. Another magna cum laude grad, this one came from Miami University in Ohio. She followed that up with a stint in LA at the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences. We’re interested to see where she winds up five years from now.

Mélissa Theuriau

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In other news, while we may indeed have more journalistas than you could ever shake a stick at, we’d be remiss to ignore the fact that the rest of the world has plenty of competition to offer. Take France, for example: Mélissa Theuriau is so blazing hot that she’s become an international sex icon — just for reporting the news.

Also, Check out The 5 Least Hot Newwomen in America!

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This weekend, Amelia, the biopic of Amelia Earhart opened in theaters nationwide. And I will not be seeing it, because there are only a few good movies out right now, and Amelia does not look like one of them. Also, biopics tend to be boring. You always know the endings. But in a surprise twist, Amelia Earhart might’ve been eaten by crabs.

And not the sexual kind. We’re not going to speculate on Amelia Earhart’s sexuality like some people do, simply because she had short hair. No, the most terrifying crabs in the world. The crabs that look the most alien out of any crab you could possibly pluck from the depths of the ocean. The coconut crab.

The coconut crab is named for their huge claws, which actually have the required strength to cut a coconut in half. Just by squeezing. In addition, and my favorite feature of any animal, short of Queen Bees saving sperm for years on end, they have a predilection for stealing shiny objects from houses. Like pots, silverware, and jewelry. Only, it’s a crab. And the most terrifying looking crab of all time. That has been known to feed on injured and unconscious people. The International Group for Historic Aircraft Recovery says, through research, and data, Amelia, her co-pilot, and plane, probably landed on Gardner Island, now Nikumaror. And also…

“If Amelia died on Nikumaroro, her body was eaten by crabs. That’s pretty much a given.”

Here’s saluting you, Amelia Earhart. Groundbreaking pilot. American legend. Totally metal.

As reported on The Next Web there is a rumor spreading through China that there exists in Sweden a village of 25,000 Lesbians where men are not allowed to enter.  The village is guarded by two tall Lesbian guards, and if men try to enter the village they are beaten half to death.  This is just another example of how much cooler rumors are in countries that don’t give a shit about celebrities nearly as much as we do.

In America everyone flips out when Lindsay Lohan accidentally gets popcorn in her vagina because she sat down too fast at a movie theater. Or we don’t hear about the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan for a week because Jake Gyllenhaal got caught playing his acoustic guitar naked in his own backyard.  In China neither of those things would matter at all because their too busy discussing and I quote:

““In Sweden, there is a place that is respectful of women’s love, but with a rule that men cannot enter. This is Chako Paul City. The town holds around 25,000 women, all from around Europe. If men transgress into the forbidden city, they will be beaten half to death. The citizens of Chako Paul are mostly engaged in the forest industry, because of such many of the women wear thick belts full of woodworking equipment. Some go into nearby cities to work and return to Chako Paul by night. Chako Paul’s tourism industry is increasingly prosperous, with hotels and restaurants everywhere that cater specifically to women around the world.” (Shanghaiist.com dug around and translated the Chinese article)

And apparently, Sweden was even more surprised because if that village actually existed it would  have been the largest village in Sweden. The only way American celebrity culture could possibly match that is if there was a discovered a village of 25,000 Annette Bennings who had grown hungry from lack of proper refrigeration and were forced to leave the village and feast on the children that lived in the suburbs below the mountain where their secret village was built.

China 1, America 0.

Jake Gyllenhall 1.5

Aww, man. I’ve been waiting for a calendar to satiate my raging boner for far too long. Since time unrecorded, I have been forced to stare at puppies in adorable poses and kittens in adorable poses and sometimes tried to make the puppy and kitty calendars fight each other. Thank God I’ve ordered this calendar of conservative women, that are good for America.

All I’ve wanted to do for the last six months is touch myself and look at Carrie Prejean. Now, I can sit back with a glass of port and….WHAT IN THE HOLY HELL IS THIS?

Initial Impression: dear God, I’ve been had. These women are all dressed like dudes. Not just any dudes. Boring, vintage wearing dudes. And some of them don’t even look like women, they LOOK like dudes. This is a calendar of women dressed like dudes for dudes that like America. And my penis can’t take it. And neither should America. Here we go.

I have no idea who Kate Obenshain is. But she’s talking about liberty and the founding fathers. I guess that’s what the founding fathers would’ve wanted, was a calendar of conservative women to look at. While they got high off snuff and diddled their slaves. Not a single one of the founding fathers would be electable now. Because they had new ideas.

Token old woman. Clare Boothe Luce. She has the name of a stripper. And apparently wanted to be a Broadway actress, then turned to liberal Hollywood and wrote bad screenplays, then into a member of the liberal media, then into a conservative politician. She must’ve had quite a time hating herself.

Sweet Jesus, Anne Coulter has to have an eating disorder. We can see right through to her trachea. She’s literally the closest thing we’ll ever have to a zombie horse/human hybrid. She crawled out of the grave to lick your sugar cubes, America. And she has a quote trashing Canada. Trashing Canada is the equivalent of retard jokes for the jet-setting type.

I bet the jeans these broads are wearing weren’t even made in America. I bet they were made by Michelle Malkin’s distant Filipino relations. Who she thinks shouldn’t get into America, because they’ll undermine national security and then Barry Obama will personally craft them into terrorists.

Don’t know her.

That’s a dude.

Michele Bachmann is kinda hot, if you make sure you can’t see her ears. Or her mouth isn’t moving. Half of which this calendar accomplishes. Well played, photographer.

LOOK! CARRIE PREJEAN! If this is the ratio of attractive conservative women to not-attractive, have fun recruiting. By now, my erection couldn’t be any more dead if I were looking at tortured sea otters and somebody pistol whipped it. The erection, not the sea otters.

Pat Buchanan has a sister? Wow, that must’ve been a giant party to grow up in. “STOP DANCING. THE GAYS WILL TAKE OVER.”

I don’t recognize this old lady, but something tells me she loves baking pies.

Don’t know her.

Here’s a lady who isn’t white! I bet she has new ideas! Oh, wait. She just had a bunch of abortions, and then turned conservative. Well, good for you, lady. Pooh poohing everyone after the fact.

Jesus Christ, these women talk about America more than a drunk at a parade. But their shirts are all ironed. One wonders if that’s the work of stylists, or good ol’ fashioned tradition values.

Wait…my erection’s back. You will not win, calendar of dude-women. Prepare yourself, Clare Boothe Luce.

(Photos Via: LA Times)

This is why Google is the best search engine on the internet.

(Photo Via: PopUrls)

Also, as witness this mini-interview with Amy Nelson (Willie’s daughter, inexplicably), who knew that they were not only intelligent beyond the expectation based on their appearance and choice of profession, but that they were kinda funny? I enjoyed the back-and-forth between the two, as they bantered and traded quips, barely answering the questions put to them by Ms. Nelson.

That’s it, really. They have somehow managed to exist into the 2K era, and made themselves aware to me via the power of the Internet. They look mostly the same as they did, which I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised about, given the enduring nature of modern petrochemicals these days … but then how do you explain the haggard appearance of Fabio? Anyway, check out their interview; it’ll probably make you smirk.

Which I dug. The idea that women contain within them violence and strength equal to men. That the idea of women being weaker is a socialized idea passed down for generations, but that given the chance, and the training, they can be just as, if not more, brutal than men.

And that this, as an idea, as a concept, is okay.

It’s okay for women to be strong. To be violent. To be aggressive. That marginalizing such tendencies re-enforces societal roles.

Perhaps I respond to it because I was raised by a strong woman who basically raised me all by herself, and as such was forced to assume roles more commonly associated with men. And not just in terms of being the provider, but in being an aggressive protector and advocate for her child. And that she didn’t, in the doing, become any less a woman. It wasn’t about assuming a masculine role, merely a dominant role.

It just so happened, as I was reading the book, thinking about these ideas, I was re-examining my work, looking for new ideas. And this one took hold. Showing women as strong, moving, if subtly, away from shooting women as attractive people, but rather as strong people. Less of the come hither look, more of the relaxed and confident posture.

Maybe I’m the only one who’ll notice it, but it’s got me excited, excited to see if I can express it adequately.

Which brings me to Corie. Shot her just last week, the new ideas in my head. She was the third woman I’d photographed with these intentions in mind, but I quickly realized, once we’d started shooting, that this wouldn’t quite work.

Because she already exuded that strength I was looking for. I was expecting to have to give some direction, some guidance, get her in the mental space for it. I’d already directed the other two models to punch me. Repeatedly. Hard. Change the energy of the shoot, get them amped up, relaxed, excited at the idea of being able to punch me. Shift the sense of power.

And she did it, cackled and giggled all the while. But as I watched and photographed, I realized she was the kind of model I needed right then, someone confident, assertive, unabashed.

So I just kept shooting, tried directing a little less than I usually did. And damned if we didn’t end up with some fine pictures.

Which was the point of all this in the first place, yeah?

Haters gon' hate.

Recently, Salman’s ex-Pia Glenn, best known for playing Lil’ Condoleezie Rice in Will Ferrell’s stage production of George W. Bush has come out swinging against him, saying he’s a mean, manipulative little prick. That he’s still obsessed with Padme Lakshmi. He fought back with words by saying essentially, that he may look like a mean, manipulative little prick, but she’s unemployed and crazy. Which is pretty harsh. And then he promptly went out and shagged a 26-year-old model chaser. That he seduced through Facebook.

Look at this man. Look at him. He is the ideal with which we need to hold ourselves. All of us fattening, pajama-wearing blog writers don’t need good looks, height, or a face that doesn’t look like a demon. All we need is some gumption, and one of the most well-regarded works of literature in the last 100 years. That’s all. We too, can be married four times and date models and women a full two feet taller than us.

Get on it.

To be fair, the woman, Min Lieskovsky, sounds like a vapid-hobag who’s completely impressed with herself. But still, the man married Padme Lakshmi. Jesus christ.

In a bit of news shocking to me and my sensibility that one day I will meet and have babies with Shakira, Shakira has been at UCLA on the d-low. What’s she been doing? She’s been learning, you insensitive jerks.

In between world tours and releasing albums and videos, Shakira apparently has found interesting ways to spend her time. Namely, taking history courses about the different places she’s able to travel to while singing like a muppet. Seriously, she sounds much better in Spanish, but in English you could just strangle Miss Piggy next to an eight-track recorder, and call it Shakira and I wouldn’t know the difference. You gotta give her props, though, for getting her learning in. How did she manage to slip in unrecognized in a large college classroom? In a city with an extra-large contingent of Latinos?

Simple. She dressed like a boy.

Well played, Shakira. Well played. I don’t know what’d be more surprising, finding Shakira in one of my classes, or some other random international pop star. Such as M.I.A. in my economics class. Taking classes to figure out how to launch her clothing line and remain anti-capitalism simultaneously. Yeah. Keep reaching, M.I.A. Keep reaching.